


Facebook Opinions

by Coppercurls



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: also dealing with racist family, dealing with anixiety/depression/anxiety attacks, discussion of racism in conjunction with the NFL protests, it's a little bit heavy tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 10:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Coppercurls/pseuds/Coppercurls
Summary: When Dex's uncle decides to post a political rant/call to action about the NFL kneeling protests, Dex has to decide how to react and how to be a good ally.





	Facebook Opinions

Nights like these, Dex could normally let the sound of Nursey’s snores lull him into enough of a calm state to eventually drift off. Tonight, though, Dex had been listening to Nursey’s snores, trying to match his breathing to Nursey’s, for nearly three hours, and it was not working in the slightest. Dex could feel his heart thundering in his chest, pulse pumping in random veins, no matter how long he regulates his breath and tries to clear his head.

He looked at his clock. It was three in the morning. Fuck. 

He knew what he should do, he just… couldn’t.

It started yesterday. Well, this bout of depression started about a week or two early, but this particular source of anxiety? Yesterday. When his uncle had posted the following paragraph on Facebook:

“We have become a divided country. The election, the rights of NFL players to stand during the National Anthem. I would hope that the US armed forces stops any promotion or advertisement through the NFL, any companies that get the majority of their revenue (USAA insurance and finance) from the military or Government. I know I will not spend any dollars to buy a NFL ticket. I will not watch any NFL games. If the police refuse to call on these players that need their services. If our Military laid down their arms. Imagine if one day our military, if one hour they said, we are on strike. And let the likes of Rocket Man, Isis (kneelers how many stadiums have been saved, protected because of good police work, military work), Russia and so on and so. To disrespect the people and system that gives you your freedoms. Just mind boggling.”

Dex hadn’t been able to read it all the way through, his stomach turned over, and he clicked the comments to see if anyone had called his uncle on his crap. But no, every comment was in support, and Dex’s heart sunk lower and lower, until he saw the comment his mom had left. 

“I agree! Well said.”

Before Dex knew what he was doing, he had thrown his phone across the room, hard, hard enough to leave a dent in the wall. His anger was the final straw, apparently, and he felt his mind disconnect from his body, from his thoughts, from his surroundings. He settled himself in bed, somehow, his mind blissfully blank, floating circular in the knot of the wood that made up the bunk above him.

It wasn’t until Nursey walked in that Dex checked his watch. Three hours had passed. Shit. He had homework to do. 

“Bro, I told you my sheets were soft, and you didn’t believe me,” Nursey said, settling on the foot of his bed, laying his legs across Dex’s chest.

Dex pushed him off immediately, and sat up. “Just didn’t feel like climbing up to my bunk,” he said, trying to shrug off the weirdness. “Ready for dinner?”

Nursey frowned at him. “How are you?”

Dex shrugged, watched himself shrug, he wasn’t sure. “Fine, but starving, let’s go.”

“I thought we were past this.” Nursey’s frown deepened, forcing his brow to furrow.

Dex hated it, but Nursey was right. They were past this. It was September of their senior year, and after living together for one full year already, they knew lying to each other, about anything, just made things more tense and heated between them. He sighed. “I kinda just dissociated for about three hours.”

“Do you need anything now?” Nursey asked, earnestly. This was how they worked now, they helped each other if they could.

Dex thought a moment, before shrugging. “Nah, just some food. It’ll just take a while to shake this feeling, you know?”

“Yeah, I gotchu.” Nursey rolled off the bed, and a moment later, so did Dex, and that was that.

But then, today, Dex’s uncle posted again.

“I have to post, lol. If everyone sticks to his/her guns NFL viewership should fall by more than half. Do not purchase, view anything that has the NFL logo on it. They are protesting, letting their views known the wrong way. And Roger Goodell (commissioner) has sucked for many years. Please, please, let’s stay the course and let our voice, $$, be accounted for.”

And now it was three in the morning and Dex could feel his gut twisting in guilt as he tried to decide what he should do.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he had his phone against his ear, the ringing sound jolting him into reality.

“Dex, brah, are you okay?” Shitty’s voice asked, and Dex was reminded that he was being crazy.

“Hey, Shitty, sorry to bother you, I’m alright, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing, sleeping probably, yeah, sorry,” Dex said in a tumble, forcing himself to listen to Nursey’s snores and match his breath to that (Nursey could sleep through a fucking hurricane, he wasn’t worried about waking him up).

“Woah, Dex, it’s alright, I’ve got your back,” Shitty said, and Dex heard him settle into his ‘soothing’ voice. “I was still awake anyway, law school’s a bitch. What’s up?”

“Sorry, it’s really not important,” Dex could feel his breath getting away from him, getting shallower, “I should let you go, I don’t want to interrupt your studying.”

“Dex.” His name cut through Dex’s spiral, leveling him out, and he took a few deep breaths. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Dex swallowed, unsure of what to say. It really wasn’t important, he just needed to deal with things better. This was literally a non-problem. “My family being racist crap again, it just got to me a bit.”

“Hey, that’s totally understandable. My family’s always racist crap, I feel you. Was it something with all the NFL stuff?” Shitty asked, his voice still more calming than outraged.

“Yeah…” Dex sighed out a laugh. “Just my uncle being an asshole, and my family agreeing with him, and I don’t know what to do.”

Shitty was quiet a moment. “Well, what can you do?”

Dex winced at the emphasis on can. There were a lot of things he was able to do. He could start an argument in the comments of his uncle’s post, outlining police brutality and institutionalized racism and how the troops have nothing to do with this and that the troops are just something white people decided to get outraged about since they can’t say they don’t like this protest without being blatantly racist. He could make his own post, stating his opinion on the matter, and clutter the air with more irrelevant opinions. Hell, he could simply repost an article or something that discusses the original intent of the protest and its virtues. But what would happen then? He could argue with his family, and then they could demean him, and ostracize him, saying they don’t know how he became a liberal, must have been that sissy school of his, and he’d have to sit through family gatherings and holidays of their judgement, of being the black sheep. Or maybe his support of this protest would be the stick that broke the camel’s back and he wouldn’t have any more family gatherings, or holidays. Then his little sisters would be down a brother, and his parents a son, and his family could remain in the ignorance they had shrouded themselves in. 

“Shouldn’t I…” Dex started, then swallowed and tried to find his train of thought, “from my place of privilege, shouldn’t I try and use that to like, educate people?”

Dex swore he could hear the bitter smile in Shitty’s voice. “You’ve gotta pick your battles. And Facebook is never a place where a battle can be won, as much as I hate to say it.”

Dex gulped. “So I just… do nothing?”

Shitty snorted. “Of course not. You go home at Thanksgiving and shut that shit down in person, and whenever you’re talking one on one with anyone in your family, you don’t let bigotry fly. And you called me, so you obviously want something to do, so ask Nursey, or Chowder, or Ford, or any of the other people of color on the team.”

“But, I don’t wanna like… be that guy,” Dex said. 

“Yeah, brah, it’s hard. But Nursey and Chowder are your best friends. Just ask them if there’s any way you can support them, and if not, they’ll have you in mind for next time.”

“…Okay,” Dex said after a pause. “Thanks Shitty.”

“Got your back, Dexy. Now you should get some sleep, and I need to finish up on this case. Good niiiiiiiiight.”

“Night, Shits,” Dex said, and he hung up the phone.

It took a bit longer than normal, but soon Dex had drifted off to the sound of Nursey’s snores.

 

At their next game, later that week, the entire Samwell Men’s Hockey team takes a knee during the national anthem, and Dex smiles, tapping his helmet against Nursey’s before they stand again.

**Author's Note:**

> So this is me hella projecting onto Dex, fyi  
> I didn't mean to write this, but first I was mad, and now nothing else I'm working on is coming out at all (so if you're waiting for the last chapter of Banning of the Board Games, I'm so incredibly sorry).  
> This is completely based around my knowledge, thoughts, and experiences of the NFL protests, so if there's anything I portrayed badly, please let me know
> 
> I'm on tumblr at brain-patterns if you want to hit me up over there.


End file.
